


We Could Burn This City Down

by PaperCities



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hackers, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Boys Will Be Boys, Daichi is sappy, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, Gang Rape, Hate Sex, Illegal Activities, Kenma is kinda sad, Kink, M/M, Making Out, Mega criminal AU, Prostitution, Rivalry, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Suga is sad, Ushiwaka will be bad this time!, basically everyone is messed up, everyone is sexy, hard sex, mafia bosses, steal that shit from shiratorizawa, that 100 billion usd!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperCities/pseuds/PaperCities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a Utopian world, everything dark is hidden from the people of the upper ground. However, beneath the golden streets of Utopia, a dystopian world of lies and treachery lurks, threatening the prosperity of the Shiratorizawa reign.</p><p>It's a man eat man world, and when the rumor of a 100 billion yen worth fortune is linked with Shiratorizawa, each team will stop at nothing to obtain the fortune.<br/>Each with their own goals.</p><p>But no fortune comes without a catch, and they find themselves forced to team up to achieve their goal. Combined with hitmen, hackers, mafia, illegal dealers, drug addicts, and prostitutes, no good game ends with a happy ending.</p><p>And what if the initial goal is turned upside down by the uproar of rebellion?</p><p>MEGA CRIMINAL AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sweet As Cyanide

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!  
> Sooo, if any of you are aware, I posted a poll in my other fanfic "Give Me Love" for you guys to decide on another story for me to write, and most of you were interested in a "MEGA CRIMINAL AU", and this is what happened! 
> 
> I’ve been thinking….what if the Haikyuu boys go bad? This story came directly from that thought. Basically, our favorite boys are all part of a couple of suspicious groups of mega criminals, and they are all planning a heist to steal 100 billion yen from the power industry of Shiratorizawa in Utopia. The chapters will be named after a poison, and it will most likely be one or more character’s POV. Keep in mind that there are only six major groups, excluding Shiratorizawa. 
> 
> Inspired by Zhu’s “Super Friends”, seriously, it gives such an awesome vibe, typing to it.
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY!  
> Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions? Feel free to contact me!

               

  _They live inside us, and sometimes, they win..._

 

               Brown eyes watch as the last of the smoke extinguishes off the hot metal of his SR-25 sniper rifle. Glancing at his watch, he is surprised to find that he has just taken his fastest record. 0.34 seconds to shoot and kill the head of a rival hit man. He leaps off the branch with ease, shaking the feeling back into his legs. He hopes his team will have coffee ready for him when he gets back, he really needs the sugar rush.

 

                Suga’s footsteps in the snow are fading by the time the horrified screams of the man’s servants sound.

 

XXX

 

                He sits in front of his computers, the digits flashing on the screen rise by the thousands every time he blinks his eyes. He crunches his lollipop, blinking lazily. Iron raids his taste buds. He realizes he cut his tongue on a jagged piece of the candy. He sucks at the cut area, eyes glued to the screen. The digits now read: 3,090,000. When the number no longer goes up, he reaches over, types _command_ , and stands. A yawn leaves his mouth; it’s already 3:34 AM.

 

                Akaashi has just hacked and taken over three million off a very rich man in two minutes.

 

XXX

 

                There’s 15 million in the pile that lay within the suitcase, and he disregards it; he has no need for it just now. There are thousands of shipping to be made, and millions of yen to be collected. He eyes the stack of paperwork in front of him, nearly finished; business of the mafia was tiresome. He made his way to his team; everyone was busy working on other negotiations. His cell phone rings.

 

                “Daichi speaking.”

 

XXX

 

                He runs his hands along the perfectly manufactured hand guns. They’re so polished he can see his reflection, a perfect man with a perfect smile plastered across his perfect face. Everything had to be in order the way he wants them to be in. He waves the box away and strolls to check on another collection. Three steps pace, equal distant spacing between each step, not a single hair off.

 

                Oikawa registers the amount of illegal weapons in the storehouse.

 

XXX

 

                The mattress springs creak as he rides the man, savoring the sensation of being stretched. He lets himself moan, releasing his voice to coax out the climax. He smells the opium in the air, mixed with sex, sweat, and other bodily fluids. He feels the silk of the bedspread. The man twitches inside him, and he rolls his hips one more time. The man releases, and he feels the hotness in himself. He is pushed back for another round.

 

                Yamaguchi shuts his eyes and listens as the others indulge in their pleasures.

 

XXX

 

                His blonde hair falls over his eyes, again. He reaches up to fix it, releasing a puff of smoke from his mouth. He stands, and walks over to the huge wall of cabinets. Inside contains thousands of types of drugs, really for shipping. He rounds the spacious room, checking things over; they were due to the mafia in a couple of hours. Another perfect ring of smoke is blown out, and he relishes the sweetness of the leaves.

 

                Kenma walks out of the room and heads to the basement, trailing the scent of smoke behind him.

 

XXX

 

Ushijima grabs his coat from the rack. With one last glance back at the honey blond curled up in his bed, he exits the room.

               

“Sir!” It’s Noya, the small male hopping to keep in pace. “You have three meetings from nine to eleven, then a conference with the press at twelve!”

 

 He nods, feeling the presence of two larger figures. Aone, silently trailing, and Iwaizumi, eyes sharp. His body guards, not that he needs any.

 

The only one missing, Shirabu.

 

He spies the blonde leaning against the limo. The smaller boy looks up, expression nonchalant.

 

“Where’s Kei?” he asks, and Ushijima spares him a smile.

 

“In bed.” Shirabu’s unimpressed look drops as he gets into the car swiftly, not glancing back.

 

                Noya, meanwhile, laughs. “Nice going, boss!”

 

                Aone opens the door for him to step into.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Suga slams the door on his way in. He succeeds in jolting Lev up, the Russian yelping in surprise.

 

                Hanamaki hurries over to take his weapon.

 

                “How long did it take?” He asks, strawberry blond hair turned blue by the gleam of the computer.

 

                Suga gives him a lopsided grin. “Not even a second.”

 

                “Nice!”

 

                Hanamaki goes to high five Lev. Suga spots the victim’s profile on the computer. Over the man’s image was a large _INACTIVE_ stamp.

 

                “Suga-san,” a raven steps out of the shadows, brows furrowed.

 

                “Mhm? What’s up, Kageyama?” Suga accepts coffee from an acrylic mug with a picture of a sun crossed out and an arrow point at it, saying fuck. Goddamn that Oikawa with his stupid gifts.

 

                A letter is handed to him, and it’s his turn to frown at it.

 

                “What is this?” he rips it open, manners be damned, squinting in the dim light.

 

                In neat cursive letters, an invitation lays in Suga’s hands. An invitation to the opening of yet another Shiratorizawa company.

 

                God, what did Ushijima want this time? Demean them again? Remind them that they belonged down here, in the underground world of lies, while he was up there, spoiled in gold? They knew that, they knew he owned Utopia. They knew that they were just the trash of the city, forced to live in the dystopian world of the underground business.

 

                Suga ripped the letter to shreds, throwing it over his head.

 

                Lev exchanged looks with Hanamaki and Kageyama.

 

                “Ushijima, huh?” Hanamaki bent down to gather the scraps of paper.

 

                “Like hell we’ll make the stupid _grand opening_!” Suga said, flopping down onto the worn out sofa.

 

                Lev attempted to cheer him up. “Yeah, fuck Ushijima!”

 

                He elbowed Kageyama, who looks between them, eyes wide. “R-Right, who is he to tell us to attend anything?”

               

                They try so hard, it’s adorable.

 

                Suga raises his arms to them. “Come here.”

 

                They don’t hesitate to jump onto the sofa with him.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Akaashi couldn’t sleep again.

 

                _Don’t sleep_ , the shadows whisper, _don’t sleep or you’ll dream of him_. Who? The one who thieves or the one who was thieved?

 

                Why him? Why did Oikawa have to take him of all people? There were so many to choose from! Why take Bokuto? What could that do for him? Did he just want to aggravate Akaashi?

 

                He hasn’t slept more than a couple of hours since he left. Bokuto had helped with the nightmares, he soothed the monsters away.

 

                A tendon of darkness appeared by the edge of the bed and Akaashi jolts up, with a gasp.

 

                He swings his legs over the bed and into his boots. The sounds of the night fill his ears, and he splashes his face with water.

 

                Out of nowhere, a phone rings. Cursing, Akaashi grabs it off the table.

 

                _Oikawa Tooru_. Speak of the devil!

 

                “Hello?” he masks his insomnia with an iron façade of neutrality.

 

                “Kei-chan! Hi! I was just calling to remind you that Ushijima sent us mail~ Don’t forget to check your mailbox like you always do!”Oikawa’s silky voice spills from the line and Akaashi wrinkles his nose in disgust.

 

                His voice comes out nonchalantly.

 

                “No problem, thank you for your reminder,” he says, heading to the door.

 

                “Sure, anytime, Kei-chan! Be sure to get enough rest, you looked ill last meeting,” Oikawa laughed and hung up.

 

                Fucking shit. Oikawa, that bastard! He knew why Akaashi looked ill. Besides, calling at a time Akaashi was supposed to sleep during? That idiot had some nerve!

 

                He regards the letter wrapped in gold and silver ink. Ushijima.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Daichi lets out a long sigh. He shoves the letter into his drawer.

 

                If there was anything they all had in common, it would be their ever hatred towards Ushijima. Besides ruling Utopia, he had all the say in the underground businesses. He placed “employers” and conducted businesses, all the while keeping a clean image for the press.

 

                He was the reason Daichi couldn’t see his parents, the reason why Daichi couldn’t see Suga.

 

                He picks up his phone, flipping through the images. He stops on the only image he has to remember Suga by. It was a photo he had taken with Suga on the last day of high school, the last normal day of their lives, before the Utopian system forced them to enter the consortium.

 

                How lovely Suga looked, dressed in the gold Utopian graduation robes, silver hair reflecting the sunlight. That had been when he still smiled, still held the belief of innocence.

 

                Daichi had caught a glimpse of him last autumn, during the opening of a large company.

 

                He looked faded out, dulled. True, they often called to communicate the next missions, but not seeing him, or holding him, was driving Daichi insane.

 

                He thumbed through the contacts, eventually landing on the familiar name.  

 

                Would it hurt? To call? No one would know. He tapped it, putting the phone to his ear.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                “Who put this here?!” Oikawa swiped the vase off its stand.

 

                In his anger, he didn’t realize the glass shattered everywhere, some into the soft flesh of his wrist.

 

                Whoever the culprit was, they stood silently. It was the best thing to do when he got like this.

 

                Shimizu rushed forward and took his injured hand. Bokuto silently bent down to clean the glass from the marble floors. Hinata brought Shimizu a damp cloth and some bandages.

 

                Oikawa’s breathing was hectic, irregular to the point of which Hinata had to wrap his arms around his torso. Physical contact always helped sooth him, and Oikawa visibly relaxed, letting his free hand rest on the back of Hinata’s head.

 

                “What happened, Oikawa?” Hinata said, voice surprisingly soft.

 

                The brunette shook out of his daze, pulling a letter from his pocket. 

 

                Bokuto took it, reading it through, eyes widening. “Again?”

 

                Oikawa sighed, smoothing his designer clothes, then smiled as if his outburst had not happened a second before.

 

                “Yes, again. He seems intent on pissing us off,” he said, shooting them a perfect smile.

 

                Shimizu looked up, eyes shielded by the gleam of her glasses. “Should we attend?”

 

                Oikawa pauses before his smile widens even more. “I think we should.”

 

                He heads to the stairs. “Make sure you guys get the nicest clothes you can find, let’s piss that son of bitch off even more.”

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Yamaguchi grips the blanket, pulling it up higher to cover his shoulders. He hates the silk bed spread, can't stand the luxuries he doesn't deserve. 

 

He misses plain cotton sheets, honey eyes, summer kisses, and late nights indulged in love. He misses when he had _him_.

What he would give to feel him again, taste strawberries on his tongue. To give away this fortune to take back that wholesome desire. 

 

He turns in his bed, trying not to be sick at the feeling of the arm draped around his waist. 

 

_"I'm sorry, but he will stop at nothing to kill us if I don't give him what he wants."_

 

It replays, over and over again.

 

What has he done to deserve this? What caused this to happen? 

 

Tsukki, all he wants was to have Tsukishima back. 

 

He needs him back, because he feels like he's losing his mind.

 

He will do whatever it takes to get him back.

 

He gets off the bed and pulls on his robes, adjusting the hem around his neck. He sees a trail of blood run down his thigh. Fuck. He can’t have clients seeing this.

 

He was Yamaguchi Tadashi, after all, the most desired escort in Dystopia _and_ Utopia.

 

He steps into the hall, sounds of sex from every corner of the mansion. It was warm, the air filled with extra radiated body heat. He peers through the crack of a door, into a dimly lit room. He sees Terushima, pinning a boy beneath him.

 

He’s all tongue and smirks, compared to Kuroo, who thrives in others’ pleasure. And Yahaba, a major power bottom, playful with his leather kink.

 

Yamaguchi heads to the backroom, in search for a jar of ointment. He hears the slapping of flesh on flesh and finds Kuroo coupling with Yahaba. The taller boy mercilessly thrusting his hips into Yahaba, who scrunches his brows at the forcefulness.

 

They’re moaning in unison, sweat glistening on their naked skin, and Yamaguchi must admit, it turns him on.

 

They notice him, and Kuroo stops for a moment to hold his hand out for Yamaguchi to join them. He lets himself be pulled into their embrace, succumbing into the comfort of familiar touches.

 

 

XXX

 

 

Kenma sits back, shuddering as he feels the pills go down his throat. Opium pills to take him away from reality, if only for the while.

 

He closes his eyes and he can practically feel Kuroo again, his roughened hands and sturdy embrace. And the sex, god, the sex.

 

Kenma throws his head back against the stone wall, and he doesn’t even register the thick blood that oozes down his neck.

 

Then, soft, cool hands are on him, matting up the blood and soothing his burning skin. Ennoshita, of course.

               

Something is put to his lips, and he takes a sip, only to realize it was water. He takes the glass, greedily draining the liquid.

 

Ennoshita continues stroking through his hair, rubbing circles into his back.

 

“Take it slowly, Kenma.” Even his voice was soothing. Damn his beautiful existence.

 

Ennoshita helps him stand, directing him to the bathroom.

 

“I prepared a bath for you; it should help with your headache.”

 

The brunette doesn’t leave him alone, which was a smart move, considering Kenma’s unstableness at the moment.

 

“Have I ever told you I love you?” Kenma asks as Ennoshita was easing him into the tub.

 

Ennoshita allows a chuckle. “Yes, many times, actually.”

 

Kenma closes his eyes, leaning his head back into Ennoshita’s hands. “Well, in case I don’t say it enough, I love you. For everything.”

 

Ennoshita hums softly as he massages shampoo into Kenma’s coarse locks. “You know what I think, Kenma?”

 

Kenma lets out a grunt.

 

“I think you’re still very very high,” Ennoshita’s hands move down to scrub at the back of Kenma’s ears.

 

The blond laughs. “Maybe I am.”

 

They sit in silence, Ennoshita making sure Kenma was fully clean before draining the water and wrapping the smaller boy in a towel.

 

He directs him to his room and then heaves Kenma into the bed.

 

“You need rest, a lot of rest,” Ennoshita says, adjusting the blankets around him. Kenma peers up at him with heavily lidded eyes.

 

“I miss Kuroo.”

 

Ennoshita’s eyes soften.

 

“I know.”

 

 

XXX

 

 

He traces the curled strands of blonde hair, watching as they fall back into place when he releases them. His hair was getting long; he'd have to remember to take him to get it trimmed. 

 

His hands wander lower to pluck at the softness of his throat, feeling the smoothness on his chin, and tasting the sweetness of his collarbones. 

 

The blond shudders under him, wrapping arms around his neck tightly, as if afraid to let go. With his hands, he brushes his hips, feeling the youth buckle into his hand, letting out a small moan. 

"Shh, I have you, don't worry," he whispers, lips brushing earlobes. 

 

Honey gold eyes looks him directly in the eyes, and soft lips press against his feverously. 

 

Ushijima watches the way Tsukishima lets himself succumb to the pleasure, clutching the pillows behind him. 

 

There was a loud knock on his door, and Shirabu was already stepping into the room without waiting.

 

He doesn’t look up, eyes cast downwards.

 

“All the letters have been sent out, just as you wished,” he states, and Ushijima can hear the clench of his jaws. “We’ll be starting plans tomorrow. We ask for your word in this.”

 

Ushijima brushes Tsukishima’s hair from his forehead.

 

“Do what you have to, but I will join tomorrow’s conference to discuss further details,” he says, trying to ignore Shirabu’s grimace.

 

He barely hears the blonde leave the room.

 

Oh, Shirabu, if only you knew.

 

He turns back to plant a kiss on Tsukishima’s brow.

 

He couldn’t wait to see their faces when they saw each other again. Those poor victims of dystopia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone ever reads my "at the end" comments, but in case anyone is open to guessing game, here's one:
> 
> Can anyone figure out what each group is modeled after? (Hint: Mental Disorders)  
> There are 7 groups, including Shiratorizawa, but both Daichi and Ushijima's groups don't have issues. So, that leaves 5 mental disorders.
> 
> I'm not sure if I made Suga's team obvious enough, or Yamaguchi! Oh, well, guessing is fun too!!!
> 
> HOW WAS IT? Comments and critique is always appreciated! ;)


	2. Taste Mustard (Gas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps the day he was born should have been a sign enough of the darker days to come. 
> 
> June 13, a date most people would disregard as the heart of summer. A day of clear skies and puffy clouds, yet, it seemed that day was different. 
> 
> Storm clouds, which usually passed over Utopia, spewed black rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who commented and supported this fic! I love you all so much! 
> 
> Shout outs to: MetallumCorvus, falicy, prettysugawara for EVERYTHING! 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> As promised, here are the mental disorders:  
> Suga: PTSD (sorry about this funky one! I'll expand on it!!)  
> Akaashi: Insomnia  
> Oikawa: OCD and Body Dysmorphic Disorder  
> Yamaguchi: Hypersexual Disorder and Bipolar  
> Kenma: MDD

 

              _Blood fell instead of rain that night..._

 

   Perhaps the day he was born should have been a sign enough of the darker days to come.

 

June 13, a date most people would disregard as the heart of summer.  A day of clear skies and puffy clouds, yet, it seemed that day was different.

 

Storm clouds, which usually passed over Utopia, spewed black rain.

 

Industrial rain, they said, of a land far far away from their golden lands.            

 

Sugawara Koushi, born to this world of lies, was a demure little thing, too delicate to be touched.

 

He grew up beautifully, smile pure and eyes forever young.

 

They thought he was going to be the next great leader, the next ruler of Utopia.

 

His innovative mind, kind soul, challenging classes, honor roll, and perfect score.

 

Perfect score. On the _test_.

 

Of all the perfect children in Utopia, why did it have to be him? Why?

 

 

XXX

 

 

If there was anything he remembered from the beginning of his life, it’ll have to be the cold.

 

It was the cold that kept him alive, that drove him to seek the warmth of things untouchable.

 

The warmth of sex, of blood oozing between his fingers, of the barrel of a shotgun after a kill, of an overused computer program. 

 

Of Bokuto, the poor boy.

 

Growing up in dystopia is cruel, too harsh for people as innocent as children.

 

Innocence? What is innocence? Akaashi hadn’t felt innocence since his ninth birthday when his _friends_ gave him a “special” gift instead of the conventional ones.

 

Did he ever mention the crimes? The break ins that occurred frequently, the murders that littered the ground in plain site?

 

Or the beatings he took for no reason? The horrid feeling of a tongue forced down his throat, or the hands that wandered his skin?

 

But Bokuto was different.

 

 

XXX

 

 

The first time he met Suga, they were waiting by the train station.

 

The boy had not noticed him, too immersed in studying a book about the history of Utopia.

 

Daichi remembers being the first to speak. They had been eleven, perhaps, mere children with no thought for the future.

 

They had grown close, even decided to attend the same high school to be even closer.

 

They had planned to work together in the future, possibly even attend the same college.

 

They had kissed, made out in the back of the gym when practice had been going.

 

They had sex, feeling each other in wholesome desire.

 

They had been…..

 

Until the test came. They took it, promising to somehow pass it.

 

And they did, but it didn’t stop there.

 

When the news spread over the city, the Sugawara household was showered with wealth and fame. They looked happy, but everyone knew the truth.

 

Sugawara Koushi was to be deported. To the Shiratorizawa manor. Daichi, having passed, was to be a solider of the Utopian forces, but he couldn’t. Not without Suga.

 

Look where that got them.

 

 

XXX

 

 

It was jealously that ended it.

 

To be raised alongside the soon to be Emperor of Utopia was nothing. To Oikawa, it was just a title, a thing created by the people to make themselves feel better.

 

He loved someone else, he had made it clear. He loved someone who would love him back the same.

 

But he couldn’t have that could he? He just had to go and take it apart.

 

If he couldn’t have Oikawa, then no one could. Was that it?

 

What kind of a person had the heart to dump a lifelong friend into the destruction of Dystopia _and_ steal his lover away?

 

A person with a heart consumed by jealousy.

 

He can’t remember what it was like to touch Iwaizumi, it’s been so long.

 

Had it been that only less than a decade ago, they had graduated from high school?

 

He knows he passed the test, he knows because he was raised in the system.

 

There was no way he barely made a 20 on it. No way in hell.

 

 

XXX

 

 

A Scorpio and Libra is the perfect recipe for love, sex and intimacy paired with commitment and partnership.

 

It would’ve have been perfect, the two of them completing each other.

 

True, their fierce personalities caused arguments, but they were each other’s halves. They were both nonconventional star signs.

 

In all of Tsukishima’s stubbornness, he was still a best friend, a wild lover in bed.

 

Yamaguchi was the brighter one, the friendlier one, yet, he was one not to be disturbed.

 

If only they had both passed.

 

They had tried to run away, but what were two teenagers against the force of Utopia’s finest and strongest?               

 

Why Tsukishima of all people?

 

Why did Ushijima want him on his team so bad?

 

True, he was smart, one of the smartest to be honest, but there were so many others to choose from!

 

What was to come now?

 

 

XXX

 

 

He was the unwanted one, the runt.

 

His poor mother, a victim of the ruins.

 

He remembers being left to die. He remembers the kindest smile. On a raven haired boy.

 

“Crazy hair.” He had said.

 

His savior with a set of deep eyes and a cocky grin.

 

He can’t remember when they first started doing, well, _it_. But he can remember that Kuroo was a callboy.

 

Sometimes, he came back to the small house with cum still on his skin and blood still on his clothes.

 

Sometimes, Kenma would cry.

 

Sometimes, they fucked until they passed out.

 

To forget.

 

But the decree came from that man, Ushijima, the emperor of Utopia. And Kuroo was ripped away from him.

 

Kenma remembers his spiral into insanity. How he clawed his way up to gain the notice of the Shiratorizawa criminal watch. He remembers the murdering, the exchange of  drugs, and the usage of those drugs.  

 

He could feel Kuroo again, with those drugs.

 

 

XXX

 

 

Shirabu curses under his breath when he fails, yet again, to hit bull’s eye.

 

He loads another round, and fires repeatedly.

 

He slams the gun down on the counter, ripping off his earmuffs and goggles.

 

He lets out a frustrated yell, clutching his head with his hands.

 

Goddamn it! Why was he so irritable? Ushijima Wakatoshi, that’s what!

 

He’s been so hormonal lately. Yesterday, he forgot his phone in the car and had a mental breakdown. Today, he made too much tea so he flung it out the window, feeling bad when the gardener had to clean it.

 

Now, all his usual bull’s eyes were so far off, the bullets hit the wall next to the target. It wasn’t even on the target anymore!

 

A warm hand is placed onto his shoulder and he looks up to see Tsukishima.

 

His eyes harden. Of course it has to be Ushijima’s pet who comes in to see him hyperventilating.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He’s asking you something!

 

“Yeah, I just—haven’t done anything right all week,” he says, defeatedly.

 

Tsukishima’s expression resembles concern.

 

“ _You_ haven’t done anything right? You’re the most reliable person in Utopia, why do you think Ushijima respects you so much?” Tsukishima asks, eyebrow arched.

 

Shirabu snorts. “ _Respects_ , right.”

 

Tsukishima shrugs. “You’re one of the only ones he hasn’t had sex with.”

 

Shirabu looks at him.

 

“That’s respect? What a shitty sense of logic,” he scowls, picking up the goggles and earmuffs.

 

Tsukishima blinks at him before slipping on his headphones and blocking out the world.

 

“It’s not logic,” comes a voice from behind him.

 

Shirabu spins around, gun raised.

 

Ushijima is barely fazed, not even blinking. He looks ready to leave.

 

“Were you here earlier? I didn’t even hear you,” Shirabu states, nonchalantly.

 

Ushijima stares at him. “Kind of difficult to notice other people around when you’re having a panic attack.”

 

Shirabu turns red.

 

“Whatever.”

 

He tries to walk past Ushijima, but the taller male stops him.

 

“I do respect you, you know, or else I would have had you stripped of your pride by now.”

 

Shirabu nods, feeling small compared to him.

 

Ushijima lets him scurry off, smirking.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Savor Arsenic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Ushijima’s going to pay for everything he has done to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeyyyyy allllllll~  
> How's is goinggggg?!?!?!?!
> 
> So sorry for the late update, so much has been happening! You know when life suddenly hits you like a train?  
> Yeahhhhh...
> 
> Please ENJOY this chapter! I hope things are cleared up soon!!! :):):):) I wanted to introduce team pride, so I tried to give a hint into each group's friendliness and loveee~~~~~!

 

 

 

 

_From what I’ve tasted of desire…_

“How do I look? Suga!” Hanamaki fixes his navy tie as Suga comes running in, searching for his missing vest.

 

                “Huh? Oh! Yeah, that looks great, Takahiro!” Suga finds it, slipping it on, before throwing on his matching black jacket.

 

                He spreads his arms out, looking at Hanamaki. “How do I look?”

 

                The strawberry blonde blinks back. “Ushijima’s gonna jizz his pants.”

 

                Suga blushes and punches him in the side, flustered.

 

                Lev wanders around the corner, trying to tuck in his cravat, looking sleek in his grey vest.

 

                “Where’s Kageyama?” Suga asks, gathering their extra invitations and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

 

                “Here!” Comes a voice from the bathroom.

 

                Kageyama steps out in a midnight navy suit, complete with a modern velvet hat.

 

                “Perfect!” Suga announces, grabbing their glasses off their stands. “Is everyone ready to go?”

 

                Hanamaki looks them all over, before giving him a thumbs up.

 

                “Let’s go!”

 

 

XXX

 

 

                The leather gloves fit just slightly tighter than how Akaashi likes, but, it’ll have to do.

 

                He adjusts his collar, smoothing the purple silk and fixing the tie.

 

                What if he sees Bokuto there?

 

                No, stay focused on the task at hand. Make Ushijima notice him and then think about Bokuto.

 

                Yaku prances into the room, grabbing his shoes before hopping over to Akaashi.

 

                “You look hot,” he says, smiling.

 

                Akaashi rolls his eyes fondly. “So do you.”

 

                Mattsun shoves between them, pretending to be occupied in finding his tie.

 

                “Well _excuse_ you, Mattsun!” Yaku pouts, kicking the taller male in the back.

 

                Mattsun gives him an unamused look. “Sorry, your flirting was so cheesy, I almost felt like hanging myself.”

 

                Akaashi chuckles, going to his drawer to collect the invitation cards. Akira stands at the doorframe, waving it at him.

 

                “I got it covered,” he states, face neutral.

 

                “Thanks, Akira.”

 

                “Mhm.”

 

                He slips into his shoes.

 

_Don’t think about Bokuto, you might not even see him there._

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Daichi tugs on the laces of his oxfords. With a final adjustment of his ermine fur coat collar, he turns to his partners.

 

                The three of them were all dressed in black, the fiercest color known to man.

 

                That Ushijima’s going to pay for everything he has done to them.

 

                Asahi looks intimating, covered from head to toe in leather. Tanaka didn’t look any friendlier, all sharp teeth and metal chains around his neck. Kyotani’s imposing presence was accented with his short sleeved collar shirt, complete with his tattooed arms.

 

                Daichi gives them a grim smile. They were just going up there because they were being forced to go, but Daichi had a plan.

 

                Look for Suga.

 

                He needed a way to get him alone, with all the other hit men and bodyguards, it seemed impossible.

 

                God, what he’d give to just touch his soft skin once more. It’s been far too long.

 

                Gathering their invitations, they leave the manor.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                “Hold still!” Oikawa attempts to wrestle Bokuto into a paisley tie and striped jacket.

 

                The blonde squeals, flailing around.

 

                Hinata laughs, hopping around in his black suit with bright orange accents.

 

                Oikawa hates the suit he’s in, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to piss off an enemy.

 

                It’s a velvety cream thing, a gift from Ushijima, from his eighteenth birthday. He hasn’t touched it for so long, but it was quite formfitting and eye catching. He needs something sexy so that son of a bitch can see what he’s been missing out on.

 

                With an undignified huff, he almost nearly gives up on Bokuto until he hears the sweetest voice.

 

                “Perhaps I can help with that, Oikawa?”

 

                Holy mother of god. What in the name was she wearing?

 

                Kiyoko steps down from the staircase, donned in a lace dress, with an open back and low cut front. The only thing connecting the front and the back was a skimpy gold chain that extended from the collar, where the front met at, to the lace that swooped to the small of her back.

 

                She must have worn contacts, but her glasses were gone and her eyes were accented by heavy eyeliner and smothering purple shadow. She had on only a pair of dangling diamond earrings.

 

                Oikawa was nearly too late as he reached for his handkerchief to stop his sudden nosebleed.

 

                Hinata and Bokuto both stopped dead in their tracks to witness divinity descend the stairs.

 

                She glides over, pulling the jacket onto Bokuto’s shoulders, before turning to the door, clutching her purse.

 

                Then, she looks back, revealing shiny teeth in a wide smile. They stare at her.

 

                “Well? Aren’t we going somewhere?”

 

                They scramble to chase after her.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Yamaguchi descends from the stairs, glancing around the main room, but no one was there.

 

                “Guys?” He calls, slipping into his loafers. “Are you ready to go?”

 

                He hears footsteps draw near.

 

                “Uh, Yams? I don’t think I look okay…”

 

                Kuroo steps out from the shadows of the marble column, dressed in a simple redshirt and black jacket.

 

                Yamaguchi’s lips lift in a lopsided smile.

 

                “What are you saying? You look great!” He says, smoothing the front of the shirt and unbuttoning the first couple of buttons to reveal a toned neck and tanned skin.

 

                Kuroo runs a hand through his hair. “I look informal compared to you and Teru.”

 

                “Why, what’s he wearing?” He glances around to find Yahaba, clad in a dazzling white suit.

 

                “Don’t you look nice?” Yamaguchi calls over and Yahaba flushes.

 

                “Thanks, Yammie, you too!” He says, trying to hide his face.

 

                It’s funny how these people find the capacity to feel embarrassed when complimented about their appearance, when they are forced to spend every day naked in front of strangers.

 

                It’s just another reason why Yamaguchi loved them so much. They had too much heart, yet, they had the most unfortunate pasts.

 

                “Have you seen Terushima?” He asks, leaning away from Kuroo to let him wear his shoes.

 

                Yahaba glances back, lips in a slight pout.

 

                “I think he’s upstairs, still.” He says, and then adds, “I swear he changed like three times, that drama queen.”

 

                Kuroo laughs at that, walking back to the end of the stairs.

 

                “Terushima! Hurry your ass!” He hollers up.

 

                They hear a whine from somewhere upstairs and Terushima said something back that sounded awfully like ‘ _you can’t rush beauty!_ ’, or maybe Yamaguchi heard wrong.

 

                Yahaba huffs out an indignant sound.

 

                “I swear, he’s worse than Oika—.” He stops himself, biting his tongue.

 

                Yamaguchi bites his lip, sharing a look with Kuroo.

 

                The raven shakes his head.

 

                It’s best to not bring up the past again, after all.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                He wrinkles his nose at the color. Why did it have to be red? How come they couldn’t wear another fucking color?

 

                Kenma decides to leave his jacket behind, wearing only the black slacks, black shirt, and red vest.

 

                Blood red was Kuroo’s favorite color.

 

                Kenma takes a deep breath, pulling his hand away from the pouch.

 

                He didn’t need it. He didn’t depend on it. He was stronger than that.

 

                He grabs it anyways, shoving it as far as possible into his pocket.

 

                Ennoshita walks into the room, letters in his hand, steering Kenma out of the room.

 

                “Get your shoes, I’ll call Yamamoto and Kindaichi,” he gives Kenma a gentle push to the garage.

 

                He grabs his oxfords, tying the laces furiously.

 

                He didn’t want to go, damn it! Ushijima was doing this on purpose. He wanted them to see each other, wanted to tear open old scars.

 

                He draws in a deep breath, forcing himself to stop thinking so he doesn’t tear off the laces on his shoes. He needs his composure, is he was going to see _him_ again.

 

                A second later, Yamamoto’s loud whoop sounds as he zips down the stairs, sliding on his satin slacks.

 

                “Kenma! Aren’t you excited?!” He hollers, skipping around.

 

                Kindaichi follows over, a hint of a smile on his lips.

 

                Kenma lets out a tiny smile. “What drug is he on?”

 

                He feels the slap of paper across his head. Ennoshita was pouting.

 

                “That’s not a good joke, Kenma.”

 

                Yamamoto, meanwhile, was laughing, standing with his hands on his hips.

 

                “Kenma, Kenma, Kenma! I am high on life! Life is what brings me on!” He exclaims, and even Kindaichi laughs.

 

                The blonde shakes his head, and loops his arm through Ennoshita and Kindaichi’s, tugging them to the limo.

 

                “Come on, we’ve got a party to crash.”

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Ushijima had given them all a choice of color, yet, it was laughable at how loyal they had become towards him.

 

                Here he was, clad in a burgundy vest, accented with finely embroidered golden leaves.

 

                Shirabu stood in front of the mirror, buttoning and unbuttoning the vest.

 

                Did he look good? In this dark color? Ushijima’s color?

 

                He picks at his fingers, staring at his reflection.

 

                How would Oikawa look now? It’s been almost two years since their last encounter. The brunette had still looked so lovely; yet, the dark circles under his eyes were more noticeable than it had been in high school.

               

                How was Ushijima going to react if they met again? Would he be disgusted, look away as if he had never known Oikawa? Or would he simply catch eyes and smile?

 

                Shirabu jolts at the feeling of large hands on his shoulders. Ushijima.

 

                He looks at him through the mirror.  

 

                Ushijima is silent as he gently takes his left hand. Shirabu shudders at the feeling of his much larger hand on his bare wrist.

 

                The brunette slips a blood red ring onto his finger.

 

                It’s a delicate little thing, a perfect smooth garnet crusted into a simple silver band, with tiny leaf designs curling around the stone. The deep ruby color contrasts his pale skin, making the red even darker.

 

                He registers that his mouth is open in shock.

 

                “U-Ushijima, I don’t understand…”

 

                The brunette shakes his head, pulling Shirabu’s hand up and pressing it to his lips.

 

                “You will.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it?!?!?!?!
> 
> If any of y'all are interested, the ring!!!!! : https://www.yoyoon.com/p-img/1200x1200/201509/15mm-Opal-Onyx-Garnet-Stone-Sterling-Silver-Cocktail-Ring-Garnet_14271_2.jpg
> 
> What could Ushjiwaka be planning?!?!?!?!!?
> 
> ALSO, I HAVE NO CLUE WHY THE LAST "BOTTOM NOTE" IS STILL ON HERE! HELP!!! SOS! Just ignore it, I guess? XDXDXDXDXD


	4. Spicy Strychnine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last touch of true nobility is the flawless smile that he’s perfected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY HEY HEY ALLLLLL!!!! XDXDXDXD
> 
> How is everyone! 
> 
> Here is the new chapter~! PLEASE ENJOY!!! <3<3<3  
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for following this fic and supporting it! 
> 
> I admit that this is a shorter chapter!! TT__TT  
> I just really wanted to update with the spare time I had today!!! XD
> 
> I'm still planning on what to expect in the next few chapters!!! :D:D:D:D
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions? Feel free to contact me! :)

 

 

 

 

 

_All this time, I drank you like the cure…_

                It’s bright and the clouds are soft and the breeze is so tangible. There’s the sound of birds singing, so high pitched and sweet.

 

                It’s like heaven and Suga can’t breathe because it’s so pure and _there_.

                                                                                                                      

                It reminds him of the good times, the better times.

 

                Of bronzed skin and late nights and running away to the sea. Of escaping from society and quiet kisses pressed to chapped lips.

 

                He inhales he sweetness of nectar like air, fresh air, so unlike the damp poison of Dystopia.

 

                The border that curved around the entire city was invisible, as it had always been.

 

                Another lie hidden from the people.

 

                Only now does Suga notice it. Faint honeycomb like patterns appear when the sun shifts. Electricity practically pulses from the barrier.

 

                The breeze ruffles his hair.

 

                He glances, sideways, at the other three.

 

                Hanamaki has his eyes screwed shut, hands together at his chest, looking as if he were praying. Kageyama’s eyes are misty and he rubs at them with the back of his hand. Lev bites his lips so hard they swell with blood beneath the skin.

 

                Suga clutches their hands, bracing himself.

 

                The ride to the grand manor was long, but it seemed as if time went to fast, leaving them behind.

 

                Utopia was truly beautiful, and Suga can’t believe he had once lived here, once been fed lies as every other child raised here.

 

                Where were his parents? What had become of them when the government was rid of him? Had they been killed? Slaughtered like the thousands of bright children deemed “not worthy” by the standards of a _test_.

 

                He registers he bit his lips so hard blood dribbled down his chin.

 

                Hanamaki presses a handkerchief to his jaw, matting at the blood.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                The sun.

 

                That was what always got to him.

 

                Such a thing, so bright and full of energy, existed in such a dark world.

 

                It was amazing.

 

                Miraculous.

 

                Beautiful.

 

                Untouchable.

 

                Just like Bokuto.

 

                Up here, it felt like he could do anything. It felt like there was nothing that could stop him, like the world would stop for him, because he held that power.

 

                But this was Utopia. This is what Utopia did to people. Bring them up, then destroy them.

 

                Akaashi knew, he heard stories.

 

                There was that boy, Sugawara something. So famous, so _bright_. What had he done? Ruined his future, running for a mere boy. He could have had everything, Ushijima had been so entranced, so lured.

 

                But why would he go against the system that ran for him?

 

                Another secret, another lie covered up by the Consortium. What forced Sugawara to do such thing as to go against Shiratorizawa?

 

                Akaashi clutches his hands, wringing his gloves.

 

                The last encounter with Bokuto had been two years ago.

 

                Far too long and far too short. They had barely had time to whisper a ‘hello’ before they were forced to part.

 

                What would happen if they saw each other again?

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Of course the manor was beautiful.

 

                Daichi peers at the castle like structure from the tinted windows of the vehicle.

 

                And it wasn’t even Ushijima’s main house. The man was smarter than that.

 

                He wouldn’t let six of the most notorious criminal groups into his home.

 

                The sky was so lovely, the blue in the corners of the clouds so _foreign_.

 

                It was laughable how he doesn’t even remember what sunrises look like.

 

                The only glimpse of the sky he remembers was the near dusk, years ago, when he had _touched_ Suga for the first time.

 

                He remembers the breeze, not unlike the breeze at the moment.

 

                They had been out driving; they wanted to go star gazing.

 

                They were lying in the back of his truck.

 

                They had been sixteen.

 

                They had been in love.

 

                He clenches his fists.

 

                He forces himself to breathe.

 

                Don’t think about that. Don’t hurt yourself thinking about those days.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Oikawa’s heart is pounding when his limo pulls into the circular driveway.

 

                There seems to be hundreds of people arriving, all of whom are dressed to impress.

 

                Then again, wasn’t he too?

 

                He glances back at the other three.

 

                Hinata and Bokuto were literally jumping in excitement.

 

                If their energy could be seen, they would have all been blinded by its intensity.

 

                Kiyoko sits, very prettily, eyeing the people from the tinted window.

 

                Oikawa wonders about her past, as he always has.

 

                Did she have someone up here, too? Did she miss her family? Did she dread the thought of seeing _the one_ , after so long?

 

                Oikawa turns his eyes to the main entrance as they pull up closer to the valets.

 

                His hands are sweating, he realizes, and he can’t help but start to pick at his fingers.

 

                Did his suit just crinkle? Was that a crease? How was his hair? Why were his fingernails so uneven? Who had the audic—?

 

                Hinata grabs his hand, shooting him a pointed look.

 

                Oikawa braces himself, swallowing audibly and straightening his back as the valet opens the door for him.

 

                The last touch of true nobility is the flawless smile that he’s perfected.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Yamaguchi can feel eyes on him as he walks up the stairs, arms linked with Kuroo and Yahaba.

 

                Terushima struts alone ahead of them, basked in his own spotlight.

 

                Of course they’re being watched—no, assessed. They are the most popular sex artists, after all.

 

                He tilts his head a little higher and puts on a sultry smile, one that’s so familiar to many of the nobles here.

 

                He notices Kuroo adjusting the collar of his shirt, but his face carries an arrogant expression.

 

                Yahaba doesn’t look it, but the tremor of knees and arms echo that of Yamaguchi’s.

 

                Terushima looks, well, like Terushima. Authentically him, in all of this pride and beauty.

 

                Yamaguchi catches gold eyes, for an instant, but it vanishes as quickly as he had seen it.

 

                He knows Tsukishima will be here, he has to.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                The first thing he notices is the vibrantly colored ring on the other blonde’s ring finger.

 

                Kenma’s eyes go over the boy –Shirabu—with little interest, that is, until he recognizes the color scheme of his vest.

 

                Ah, just another one of Ushijima’s henchmen.

 

                Yet, Kenma can’t help but study him, notice him.

 

                What made _him_ so special? Why did Ushijima choose such a timid, well mannered boy to be a part of his rule?

 

                Kenma’s eyes trace the way the boy brushes stray strands of hair out of his eyes.

 

                Sure, he was pretty, but that can’t be enough to get to Ushijima’s front lines unless…

 

                He watches as Shirabu goes over to Ushijima, who was engaged in a conversation with a duchess.

 

                The raven stops everything to turn and speak to the blonde.

               

                Hmm… interesting.

 

                Kenma notices a pair of brown eyes staring at him.

 

                He remembers the feeling of those eyes.

 

                Kuroo.

 

                He tries to force himself to not look over, to look anywhere but the raven.

 

                It doesn’t work, and he finds himself almost face to face with the raven.

 

                There’s a whispered greeting and a fluttering sensation in his chest, but he pushes away.

 

                He doesn’t realize he’s running until he’s out of breath.

 

                The weight in the bottom of his pocket is unbearable.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Oikawa did look at him.

 

                He walked up close and raised a hand, as if about to hit him, before caressing his cheek and commenting on how lovely he looks now.

 

                Shirabu can’t shake off the feeling of the foreign touch.

 

                Oikawa should have been angry, or aloof. Not friendly and affable.

 

                Not to mention how good he still looks.

 

                It was like they were eighteen still, Oikawa and his beautiful smile and soft hair.

 

                That suit he was wearing was a statement, obviously, and Shirabu can’t fight the admiration he has for the man.

 

                If anyone had been occupied at the time Oikawa walked in, they surely stopped everything just to watch him pass.

 

                Everyone knew him, of course.

 

                Oikawa Tooru was the name associated with betrayal and lust and pride.

 

                But they had all paused and watched grace sweep past them with his sensual curves and long limbs.

 

                Shirabu takes another guest’s coat.

 

                He exchanges glances with Noya, who was hidden in the folds of the dark curtains on the ceiling that fall to the floor.

 

                The smaller boy has a sniper rifle ready in case of any emergencies. His keen eye sight permits him to the job.

 

                Iwaizumi walks by him, with a glance at the ring, and passes him a note between his fingers.

 

_’12:00 at the rose garden. I can open up another perspective for you’_

He looks up at the raven.

 

                “Who…?”

 

                Iwaizumi presses his forefinger to his lips to signal silence.

 

                Shirabu is left frowning at his spot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW WAS IT!?!?!?!?! ;) ;)  
> What'd you guys think?   
> What should happen next....hmmmmm....???? XDXDXDXD
> 
> <3<3 Kisses to you all, and have a nice day!   
> (Mwahahahaha!!! ;))

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if anyone ever reads my "at the end" comments, but in case anyone is open to guessing game, here's one: 
> 
> Can anyone figure out what each group is modeled after? (Hint: Mental Disorders)  
> There are 7 groups, including Shiratorizawa, but both Daichi and Ushijima's groups don't have issues. So, that leaves 5 mental disorders.
> 
> I'm not sure if I made Suga's team obvious enough, or Yamaguchi! Oh, well, guessing is fun too!!!
> 
> HOW WAS IT? Comments and critique is always appreciated! ;)


End file.
